


Impala and Chill

by MSpataro210



Series: Season 11 Inspired [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x04, Baby, Humor, Impala, M/M, Netflix and Chill, Seduction, Short Shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5119976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSpataro210/pseuds/MSpataro210
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's doing some repairs on Baby after the ghoul-pire adventure, while wearing his new "work clothes".  That is, until Cas stumbles upon him.  Then, Dean decides to have a little fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impala and Chill

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of laughs while writing this because this is something I usually never do. There's more implied than actual stuff, but still a lot of the writing was risquee for me.
> 
> But I hope you enjoy!

Impala and Chill

            The heavy strums of rock blasted from the open doors of the Impala, as it moved from the bed of the interior to surround the garage.  The melodies of the 70’s and the 80’s cover the grunts and the clangs of the Impala being fixed from her last mission.  Unseen, but underneath the hood of the car, Dean works his greasy hands while also banging his head to each beat of the drum.

            “Dean!”

            He startles, jumping within the twisted metal of the bruised and broken Baby and hitting his head.

            “Dammit!”

            He steps out from his place, rubbing his oily hands through his blond tufts, streaking them black. Words, ready to jump from his tongue, die instantly when he notices who was the one that disturbed him.

            Castiel stands, rubbing one eye with his fist, swathed with the same blanket he’s been loath to abandon since returning to the Bunker.

            “Dean,” Castiel yawns, “your music is too loud.”

            “C’mon, Cas,” Dean remarks, “the night’s still young, don’t be a crochety old man now!”

            “The ‘night’ is 5 o’clock in the morning.”

            Dean startles again, more out of shock for not realizing how much time had gone by.

            “Did I… did I wake you up?” he questions.

            “No,” Castiel says, “I was thirsty… but the music was giving me a headache.”

            “This music,” Dean points, “is too good to give anyone a headache.”

            “It can if it’s too loud,” Castiel replies, “especially for people with supernatural hearing abilities.”

            Dean raises a black hand, ready to fire another bullet, when he realizes whatever retort he has stored away is nothing but a blank.  He fixes his mouth to a grimace, but silently agrees.  He grabs for the rag.

            “I guess you’re right,” Dean wipes his hands, “besides… we wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.”

            “Dean we live next to no one.”

            Dean stops, eyes fixed on a distant object: “Cas- what I meant… never mind.”

            Dean drops the rag back onto the side of the open hood and moves to reach into the Impala to fiddle with the radio knob, turning the music off.  He’s about to slide out, but stops when he notices something peculiar out of the corner of his eye.

            Castiel has moved his attention from him to somewhere… _lower_ on his body.  Dean thinks he sees black overtake the blue of Castiel’s pupil, and his tan face to become a few shades darker.

            He thinks as to why his friend might be staring at him like that, when he remembers what he put on earlier to work on Baby.

            _“Are you sure you’ll be able to work in those?” Sam questions from the side of the severely damaged Impala, slouching delicately on its roof._

_Dean looks down at his attire, not seeing what is wrong with what he picked out. A white tank top he doesn’t care about, and what he has now dubbed his ‘Baby Shorts’._

_“What?” he smirks, “would it be too much of a distraction for all the impressionable young women out there?”  He throws one leg on top of the car and flashes Sam one of his best ‘blue steels’. Sam is not amused._

_“Whatever,” Sam retreats, “Enjoy your wedgie.”_

_“I will, Samuel!” Dean shouts back, smiling in victory._

_A victory that is short-lived, when he has to pull at the denim slipping into his ass-crack._

            Dean smiles again, this time more predatory in nature.  He slowly slips out of the Impala, sure that his lower half rises the more he moves out of Baby’s leather interior.  Once his head is fully past the door, he whips up and faces Castiel.

            It’s obvious to see how much Dean caught Castiel off guard.  He can see the swish of fabric as the angel uses the blanket to cover the area in front of his cotton pajama pants.  How he tries to unglaze his eyes and…

            ‘ _Is that drool?_ ’ Dean thinks, noticing the tiny flecks near the corner of the angel’s pink lips, which he slowly wipes away with a swipe of his tongue.

            “What’s the matter Cas?” Dean asks, moving forward to slam the hood of Baby’s front down. “You seem a bit…” he hops on top, crossing his legs, “distracted?”

            “I don’t-I don’t know what you mean,” Castiel coughs, “Are-are those new pants?”

            Dean looks down. “These?” he asks, opening his legs as far as he can go, “Nah, they’re an old pair that got too tattered. I decided to repurpose them as an inside-only clothing.”  Dean goes to slap his thigh: “It’s not legal to show this much skin in public.”

            “They look very…” Castiel has trouble finding the right word to say, “ _nice_.”

            “I think so too,” Dean beams back.

            “Don’t you worry they might get… _dirty_?” Castiel growls, moving closer.  Dean can tell his eyes are almost fully shut by how lidded they are.

            “Dirty?” Dean bites his lip, brows drawn together in worry.  He looks down, and acts like he notices some oil on them.

            “Well would you look at that?” Dean gasps, “I seem to have a spot right here!”  He starts to rub his hands over the area where the “stain” is. Which just so happened to be his crotch. Halfway through his routine his breath hitches, especially when the cool metal of the zipper touches his flushed, hot skin.  Castiel licks his lips again.

            “Dean…” Castiel’s voice is as rough as an avalanche, vibrating throughout Dean and sending shivers up his spine.  But, he’s not done yet.

            Dean smirks again at Castiel’s nearly black eyes and pushes up until he’s almost pressed against the front glass, then turns his head until Castiel is staring only at his neck.

            “Oh shit,” he breathes, “I need to get that.”

            He turns in his spot, knees resting on the now warm metal, reaching for something that doesn’t exist on the roof of the car.  He makes sure to stick his ass out as far as it can go, and each time he has to “reach further” give it a necessary wiggle.

            It’s only when he feels the grip of rough hands on his hips does he stop.

            “Cas…?”

            “Flip.”

            Dean does as he’s told, coming face to face with a Castiel who knows what he wants.  The look in his eyes is reminiscent of when Dean first ran into the angel, so full of power.  That he could do whatever he wanted with Dean, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

            Well, now Dean _can_ do something about it.

            In this case he grinds slowly against Castiel and-

            ‘ _Oh, well hello penis_ ,’ Dean thinks when he feels what can only be an eggplant under the cotton fabric of his pajama pants.

            Castiel takes in Dean’s wide eyes and fires off his first smirk: “I take it you like what you feel?”

            Dean returns it: “Only more if I can see it.”

            Dean slides his hands down Castiel’s chest, gliding over the smooth skin his calloused fingers massage.   He keeps moving them down until they’re hooked on his waistband.  His eyes ask the question his throat is too rough to voice.

            Castiel moves in close, lip almost meeting lip, when Castiel stops.

            “Wait…” he breathes.

            Dean closes his eyes: “What?”

            “I have a better idea…” 

* * *

 

            Sam wakes up late in the day, feeling more rested then he has in years.  He stretches his long arms into a yawn, so much so his shirt stretches a bit, revealing a small strip of skin.

            He swings his legs over to the side and pushes up and out of the bed, using the momentum to pad swiftly towards the door.  He hisses when his feet touch the cool marble of the hallway, but soon enough it fades the closer he gets to the kitchen.

            However, he stops when he sees the light still on in the garage.

            “Wha…?” he whispers, scratching his head, hair standing on ends.

            His route diverted, he enters the silent garage.

            “Dean?” he hoarsely calls out, hoping to God he doesn’t find his brother snoring underneath Baby again. Or slumped over the engine, made only worse by what he was wearing when last he saw him.

            Thankfully he finds neither, but he does find the back of the screen of the laptop blocking the front glass of the Impala.

            His curiosity gets the better of him, and he goes to investigate.  And what he finds is better that coffee at getting him fully awake.

            Dean and Castiel cuddled up under the blanket, bare chests barely peeking out.  Their faces are lit by the red screen of Netflix, asking the duo if they were still cognizant enough to watch the next episode.

            Sam, now over his shock, laughs a bit over finding his brother and his brother’s angel in such a position.

            And as _Dean's_ brother, he does his duty and takes a quick picture on his phone for future use. Then, he decides to wake them in a manner that is both annoying and hysterical.

            He grabs the laptop first (it’s expensive) and puts it down on the ground.  Then he steps out further, leaving only his hand to hover over the wheel, before slamming it down on the horn.

            “What the-!”

            “Dean-!”

            The two men spring apart, hitting both their heads on the roof of the car.  This scene should have made Sam laugh until he passed out, but the jumping made the blanket slip and Sam couldn’t help but yell:

            “Why are you both naked!?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Good? Please tell me if you thought so by either leaving kudos or leaving a comment!


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